Alone
by Torielle
Summary: The War of the Ring has ended. Legolas returns to Eryn Lasgalen only to find that he does not feel at home there aynmore. Depression sets in as he misses the friendships he had forged. Is there any way to bring him back to the light? Not slash.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: **I do not claim to own any of these characters (except for Anyana, Irinwë, and any other characters not recognised). I am making no money off this what so ever, and would be eternally grateful if you didn't sue me!  
i don't have anyone to Beta this story for me yet (although Panneth has kindly offered, should she have the time...thanx!), so all mistakes are mine.

And without further ado, here is the first chapter of my first LotR FF: Alone.

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**Alone**  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The only noises that could be heard in the cold night air were those of crickets chirping quietly, and the constant trickle of the stream as it flowed over the rocks on its bed. These, and the shallow breathing of a lone Elf that sat on the bank of the stream. His face was serene, and gave away none of the thoughts going through his mind; gave no indication of the turmoil that he felt inside his soul.  
  
Legolas Greenleaf had returned from the War of the Ring a little over two months ago, and even though he was happy to be home once again, his heart was restless.  
  
This feeling began just after he left Minas Tirith where he, and those that remained of the Fellowship, had parted and gone their separate ways after the Coronation of Aragorn, now King Ellessar of Gondor. He and Gimli the Dwarf had traveled together for a fair way during the return journey, until they, too, had parted so that Gimli could go to the Glittering Caves.  
  
Legolas had made light of the situation during his farewell to Gimli, saying that he needed the time to his self after spending almost a year with a Dwarf, Humans, an Istari, and four Hobbits as his only company. And so it was that when Gimli left him, he left with a lightened heart, thinking that his Elven friend was truly okay, as was Legolas' want. And then, Legolas was left on his own. Now, sitting alone on the riverbank in the forest in which he had resided all of his life, Legolas pondered why he felt so empty, and had the worst case of homesickness he had ever experienced.  
Finally, after realizing that he was getting nowhere with his inner demons, he sighed wearily as he stood up, and began to walk back toward the Palace.  
  
As he walked, he looked about the forest, becoming reacquainted with the tall Beech and Oak trees of Mirkwood. Mirkwood...the forest was no longer called that. The shadow that had transformed Greenwood the Great into Mirkwood was now gone, due to the defeat of Sauron. And so his father, King Thranduil, had re-named it Eryn Lasgalen. The Forest of the Greenleaves.  
  
So in effect, Legolas was left with nothing but the memory of friends, dead and alive, and a home was not home anymore.  
  
In that moment, he realized that he truly was alone. And for the first time in his 2,932 years, he did not welcome the solitude.  
  
As Legolas entered the Palace, his mind wondered and he let his instincts take over, his feet sub-consciously finding the way to his chambers. Once there, he found that a bath had been prepared for him, and that his nightclothes were laid out on his bed. He smiled softly at this; his maid, Anyana, had a knack for knowing exactly what he wanted, without him having to ask. He made his way over to the bath, and began to undress. Just as he was untying the laces on his trousers, there was a soft knock at the door. He went back into the chamber proper, and opened the door, to find none other than Anyana herself.  
  
Anyana was a bit shorter that Legolas, had long, wavy hair the colour of rich earth. She was beautiful, like all Elves, yet her eyes held a wisdom that any other Elf of 3,859 years could only dream to possess. He smiled widely at his friend as he opened the door wider to allow her access.   
"My Lord," she greeted him, as she bowed her head slightly in respect, "I hope this evening finds you well?"   
Legolas sighed, almost inaudibly, before he replied, "As well as can be expected, Anyana. However, the bath you had made ready for me should help a great deal."   
She smiled at this, and then moved to pick up the tunic that he had put on the floor whilst getting undressed. She spoke to him whilst folding the item of clothing.   
"Would you like something to eat, or perhaps drink, Lord?"   
"No thank you, Anyana. And how many times must I ask you to call me Legolas? You know how much I hate titles." He said, putting his hands over his face as he sat down on his bed.   
Instead of answering him, she walked over to his dressing table and picked up a comb. As she returned to the bed, she found that Legolas was still sat, head in hands, and shoulders slumped as if he bore the weight of all Middle Earth on his shoulders. She softly sat on the bed, just behind him, and began to unbraid his hair.  
  
Legolas lifted his head as he felt her hands working through his hair. Once she had undone the braids, she began to gently comb his hair. His eyes fell shut as he began to feel more relaxed under Anyana's ministrations. This had become a ritual of sorts, ever since he was an Elfling. If ever he was worried, upset or under a lot of stress, Anyana would sit and softly brush his long golden locks. Legolas had often wondered if she could use magic, for it never failed to calm him, no matter how bad things seemed. After sitting like that for perhaps five minutes, Anyana spoke.  
  
"What troubles you, mellon nin [my friend]? I would have thought you would be happy to have things return to normal, and yet you seem the opposite."   
"I am happy to be back, but...I no longer feel at home here. Peace seems to have deserted me." He said sadly, his head once again dropping to his chest. Anyana stood and went to kneel in front of him. Speaking so quietly that he had to strain to hear her, she voiced her revelation. "You miss them, don't you?"   
"Is it that apparent?" He answered, the expression on his face one of an Elfling who had just been caught doing something he ought not to be.   
"Only to me, Legolas. But after spending two and a half millennia with another, one gets used to reading their expressions and moods. Which is why I am worried. You have been back in Eryn Lasgalen for over two months, and just recently have I discovered that something was wrong." She said, sadly.  
  
Legolas picked up on her pain at not being able to help him, immediately explaining, "Oh, Anya," He began softly, using the nickname he had given her when he was an Elfling and unable to say her full name properly, "the only reason that you did not know is because I did not wish for you to. I did not want to burden you with something that I do not understand completely myself...but now I know that it was folly," He said as he lifted her face up to meet his, "for you are the one person who can help me to understand it."   
Anyana smiled at him, knowing he was telling her the truth.   
"Oh, Legolas. You have indeed grown well as I forsaw you would...but know this; 'tis more a burden for me when you hide your troubles from me than when you would share them. But I feel gladdened that you could share them now, and I will do all I can to help. Sleep well, young one." "That I shall. Hannon lle [Thank you], Anyana."  
  
And with those words of farewell, Legolas found himself alone once again, and the walls he had tried so hard to maintain in Anyana's presence crumled once more.  
  
He found sleep to be elusive that night.

So, what do you think?   
The next chapter will be up in a couple of days. Since this is my first fan fic, I would really appreciate feedback, so please review!

Torielle


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: **Don't own it, so don't sue…I've no money anyway!! (Anyana, Guillian and Irinwë are mine though!)  
Well, here's the second chapter! Hope you enjoy!

**Alone**

Chapter 2

The rise of the new sun found Legolas at the archery ranges. He had neglected to practice his skills recently, but sought to remedy the situation that very day.

However, what one seeks is not always found, and try as he may, he could not get a single one of his arrows to hit the centre of the target. In his growing frustration at his current lapse in skill, his aim suffered even more, missing the target completely.

Upon seeing this, he sighed heavily and threw his bow down to the ground.

He wondered, as he sat cross-legged on the springy grass of the range, if the Lady Galadriel had been of sound mind when she gave him the bow of the Galadhrim, for he was sure that he did not deserve to wield such a mighty weapon.

A voice coming from not more than five metres away brought him from his moment of self-depreciation.

"My Lord, are you well?" Guillian, one of his Father's best archers, asked him.

"Forgive me, Lord Guillian, I was lost in my thoughts and did not hear you approach. I fare well enough, thank you. I trust that this day finds you well, also?" He said, trying to keep his tone as carefree as he could.

"Aye, My Lord, it does. I was just coming to practice before the rushes." He said with a smile, knowing that a group of twenty or so Elflings under the charge of Salberon would fill the range in only a couple of short hours. Legolas smiled back. "Perhaps you would care to join me?" Guillian asked him, his face betraying none of the worry he felt for seeing his former, and best, student turn down his offer, all the while looking like a trapped animal trying to find any way to escape.

Legolas hoped that none of the anxiety he felt inside showed on his face. Usually he would jump at the chance to best his former tutor, but now, after the disaster of his solitary practice…Guillian would know without a doubt that something troubled him. And after talking it through with Anyana, Legolas did not feel up to discussing it again.

"I thank you kindly for your offer, Lord Guillian, but I am afraid that I shall have to decline. I have some matters that need to be taken care of. Another time, perhaps?" Legolas said as he rose, as calmly as he could, retrieving his bow from the ground.

"Of course, My Lord. I know how busy your father keeps you these days, and I would not like to find myself out of favour with him. Send him my regards, won't you?" Guillian replied, seemingly oblivious to his former student's deception.

"I will indeed. If you'll excuse me?" He replied, bowing in farewell and respect.

Guillian returned this with a nod of his head, bidding him a good day.

Legolas left the Archery ranges as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. He was fairly surprised that Guillian had bought his excuse; everyone in the palace knew how much influence he had over his father. If Legolas had requested time off, even for something as trivial as an Archery competition, Thranduil would have readily agreed. That, and everyone knew of his love for the bow and arrow.

None the less, Legolas knew that the Master Archer would not question him, for he held too much respect for the Royal family to ask for clarification where none was readily given.

As he made his way from the range, he turned left and took the path that would lead him to his private garden. He often found peace here, as this was where he had spent a lot of time as an Elfling with his Naneth (Mother) before she had sailed into the West to Valinor.

Finding his favourite spot underneath a Beech tree that had seen more years than he himself even dreamed to, he leant against its trunk, closing his eyes as he rested his head back against the tree.

"Oh, Naneth, I wish you were here now. I really need someone who can help me to understand how I feel." He sighed gently as he allowed the rays of Anor warm his face. The last thing he remembered was the sound of rustling leaves against the gentle, warm breeze as he drifted into the realm of Elven sleep.

Guillian was still to be found on the Archery range, practising alone. He could feel the gentle wind, its warmth lingering on his skin and the way it made wisps of his long, golden hair fly around his head as he loosed the arrows from his bow.

It was a familiar comfort to him, knowing that though some things changed, that many things would remain, and not even Sauron himself could stop the way he felt when the kiss of a summer's breeze caressed his skin.

And yet, his mind was troubled. He had sensed from his earlier conversation with Legolas that he was not at ease with himself. And then when he had requested him to join in one of their frequent competitions, Legolas had declined, with the excuse that he had things to attend.

Never before, in over the two thousand years since meeting the Prince, had he known him to turn down a challenge, especially if it involved beating his former teacher. Legolas loved to prove that he had surpassed his tutor's skills, and never missed an opportunity to boast about it. And so, today's scenario confused him no end.

_Oh, well, _he thought to himself, _it's probably nothing to worry about._

But still, his thoughts would not be quieted. _I suppose I could keep and eye on him though, just to be sure._

Yes, that would be the best course of action. And if his troubles were not alleviated he could always speak to Thranduil about it. He was always willing to listen where his only son was concerned.

He resumed his practice, contented by the course of his actions regarding the Prince, and by the _thwacking_ sound his weapon made when an arrow was released from it.

Anor was at its zenith when Legolas awoke. Blinking to clear his eyes, he stood from his position of resting against the large old Oak tree he had loved as long as he could remember.

What he did remember, though, were the times he and his friends had played in this garden, running in circles around the old Oak, trying to catch each other. As they had gotten older, they used to climb up onto its sturdy branches, hidden from the world below.

He smiled at the memories. It had been a long time since he had done that…

Grinning like the Elfling in his memories, he began to climb the tree. As he ascended, he listened to the sounds around him; the birds chirruping, leaves rustling with the gentle breeze. As he reached his favourite branch, approximately a third of the height of the Oak, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, inhaling the scents of the forest.

Legolas felt his heart lighten for the first time in many weeks. He realized that he had been so busy trying to keep his thoughts off of his friends in different countries, that he had been neglecting his other friends in the forests and gardens in his own.

Clearing his mind as best he could, he began to look around him. He saw the elves walking below him, and he heard now the _thwack _of arrows as they were released by Salberon's students, and then the _thud _as they hit their target.

Perhaps life was not so bad after all…

**A/N: **So, what do you think? Thanks to those who reviewed! Please remember, if you read, review. We live off feedback!

**Gozilla **and** Stephanie6: **Glad you liked it! It may be a bit slow to start with, but I can assure you, it does get better!

**Elfique:** Thanks loads! I wasn't sure about the Elvish myself, but thought I'd give it a go. Found a good Sindarin phrasebook online…hopefully I will be able to put a whole conversation in a later chapter. Not sure yet!


	3. Chapter 3

Hi guys, I'm back! Sorry it took so long to update, things have been pretty hectic in my house recently. My Dad decided to redecorate the living room...Men and DIY. Enough said!  
Here's the third installment of Alone. Hope you enjoy. And a great big thank you to Panneth, my Beta, for pointing out my mistakes!  
  
**Disclaimer:** If you recognise it, I don't own it so please don't sue! It all belongs to the wonderful JRR Tolkien, except for Irinwë, Guillian, Molynwen, etc.  
  
**Chapter 3**  
  
Several weeks had passed since Legolas had spoken to Anyana and to most he seemed perfectly happy with his life in the Palace. He went about his royal duties with the fervour he had always shown and was never ignorant or disrespectful to any of his father's subjects. However this cool, exuberant exterior hid a more sullen, lonely interior, which he managed to repress, if only for a short time, whilst working. Legolas spent most of his time running errands and being generally helpful to his father, for he could not dwell on the unhappy thoughts and different places he would rather be if he kept his mind occupied.  
  
Then something would happen that would make his mind return from its place in the clouds, and bring him back down to Middle Earth with a thud. Most of the time it was just little things, trivial really. Like today, as he walked through the gardens of his home, oblivious to everything but his musings, he had recalled the time he had spent with Estel in Imladris, in the time before the Fellowship. That single thought had been the start of a chain reaction of memories that had left him feeling miserable and more alone than ever.  
  
Like when he and Gimli had travelled to Fangorn again after the War of the Ring; unfortunately his father had sent word for him, wanting to know his only son was safe, and for him to return home. And so their exploration had been cut short, Legolas unable to visit the Glittering Caves with Gimli and uphold his end of their bargain; a decision to this day he still regretted.  
  
Or when he had travelled to the Shire to see the Hobbits once more, for soon he knew Frodo would go to the Grey Havens with Gandalf, Galadriel, and Elrond. This reminded him of the sorrowful fact that the elves were departing these shores to make way for the rule of Men. That in turn reminded him of the even more sorrowful fact that their King, Aragorn, his beloved friend, would one day pass from this world, as would Gimli and then he would be alone. At that time he would have no such friends to ease their passing.  
  
This was too much for Legolas to bear. These thoughts had risen seemingly unbidden and they had overcome him. He could no longer control his memories, or the dark, depressing thoughts they led him to. He felt himself sink to the ground, but was unaware of the softness of the grass as he landed on it or the warm breeze that graced his pained features. The only thing he was aware of was the darkness that threatened to overtake him, and he welcomed it, knowing that his thoughts could trouble him no more if the darkness took him.  
  
And take him it did.

That was how he found him. At first he thought his eyes were playing tricks on him, for he could not believe the Prince to be asleep on such a fine day. Yet as he got closer he noticed something was amiss. The Prince's eyes were closed, an unusual occurrence in itself, for elves slept with their eyes open, but what disturbed him the most was the pained look upon his normally fair and untroubled face.  
  
Though he could see no sign of physical injury he knew that something was desperately wrong, and so with a great sense of foreboding, he picked up the limp form of the Elven Prince and made his way to the Healer as fast as he could.  
  
He reached the House of Healing in record time. As he approached the entrance he kicked the doors open and immediately began shouting for a Healer to come quickly. An elleth [she-elf] with long, dark hair came running up the hallway in which he stood. Upon seeing the injured elf was the Prince, her eyes widened in shock and then she called to another two Healers to make haste and bring with them certain herbs that she might need.  
  
She motioned for the elf to take the Prince into one of the secluded rooms on the left of the corridor they were currently stood in. The elf did as bidden and carefully laid Legolas down on the bed.  
  
"What happened?" The Healer asked him, a note of urgency detected in her tone.  
  
"I know not. I was walking in the gardens when I happened across him as he is now. First I thought him to be sleeping, but his eyes are shut." He said, gesturing to the patient's face.  
  
Just then the two other Healers came into the room with the medicinal herbs she had requested.  
  
With the help of her assistants, the healer he now knew to be Irinwë proceeded to examine Legolas with caution, lest she irritate any injuries further. When she had finished, there was a look of confusion on her face.  
  
"He has no physical wounds, nor can I detect any trauma to his head. And there is no trace of poison..." Irinwë stated, more to herself than to anyone else. "Molynwen!" She called to one of her aides. "Please inform His Majesty of the situation immediately. Should he ask of the Prince's injuries, tell him you are unaware, but that I will explain when he arrives."  
  
Molynwen nodded in response, and left on swift feet to find King Thranduil.  
  
The elf that had brought Legolas to the Healers then spoke.  
  
"Then you know what ails him, hiril nín [My Lady]?" He enquired, concern in his voice unmistakable.  
  
Irinwë looked up to him, noticing him seemingly for the first time. She did not recognise him.  
  
"I have an idea, but I would not speak of it until I had more proof, for an idea is all that it is. Might I ask your name, My Lord?"  
  
"Yes, you may, My Lady. My na-" He was cut off in mid-sentence by the sound of the doors to the House being thrown open, and the almost undetectable sound of hurrying footsteps. It appeared that King Thranduil had arrived.  
  
The mysterious saviour decided to take this opportunity to make his exit. Indeed, Irinwë did not even notice his leaving, so intent on speaking with King Thranduil was she.King Thranduil of Eryn Lasgalen hurried down the corridor to the private chambers where his son had recently been taken, the look on his face bordering on panic. The Assistant Healer sent to inform him, Molynwen he recalled, had not known the specific details about his son's condition, but had assured him that her Mistress, Irinwë, would rectify this upon his arrival. So he had made his way to the Healers as fast as he could, a thousand scenarios running through his mind and none of them good. He turned left to enter the chamber Molynwen had preceded him into and his gaze fell on Legolas. He stopped mid-stride, his eyes a mixture of shock and fear.  
  
Irinwë pulled him from the thoughts of his son laying on the bed, saying, "My Lord, I thank you for your haste. I regret that you had to be called here at all."  
  
"Of course, Irinwë. What is wrong with Legolas? He does not appear to be wounded..." Thranduil replied, confusion wrinkling his fair features. At first, Thranduil had feared he had not been quick enough, that his only son had died before he had gotten chance to say goodbye to him. On further observation, however, he noticed that his chest was rising and falling slowly, as if he were asleep.  
  
"If His Highness would follow me into my rooms, I would share my opinions with him." She answered, her tone of voice indicating that the others present should not be an audience to what she had to say.  
  
"Indeed. Lead on." The King replied, his tone flat.  
  
King Thranduil then followed Irinwë into her office. The room was of a fairly decent size, but made to appear a lot smaller due to the shelves full of herbs and her exensive collection of healing books. At the far side of the room there was a large oak table, cluttered with various texts, and contraptions that Thranduil did not want to know what their uses were.  
  
As Irinwë closed the door to her office, King Thranduil said,  
  
"Forgive me for my disrespect, Irinwë, but I merely wish to know what is wrong with my son."  
  
"Of course, Sire. I understand completely," Irinwë said, gesturing for him to take a seat. He accepted.  
  
"Mistress Healer, please...what is wrong with Legolas?" He asked, worry evident in his voice.  
  
Irinwë sighed softly to herself as she too took a seat. She looked directly into her King's eyes as she said, "My Lord, after examining Prince Legolas, I noticed, as you have done too, that he had no physical injuries. At this time, he remains unconscious. I fear that this was of his own doing." She paled visibly as she waited for Thranduil's reply. She knew he was not going to like this one bit. She was right.  
  
"What?! Legolas would never intentionally harm himself –"  
  
"No, Sire, I did not mean to imply in any way that the Prince had tried to take his life. What I meant was that the only way I can explain this situation, bearing in mind my experience as a Healer, is that for some reason he does not wish to awaken."  
  
"But why would he wish such a thing? He has been perfectly content, he told me this himself. I do not understand..." Thranduil said, not able to comprehend this diagnosis at all.  
  
"I know, My Lord. I, too, find it to be quite...extreme, but I am afraid that I can find no other reason that would explain the Prince's current state. I truly am sorry, Sire. I wish I could offer a better answer to your question," she said, truly meaning it.  
  
"I understand. Please, tell me...what will you do now?" He said, still in a state of shock.  
  
"All I can do is make sure that he is comfortable and recieves the nourishment his body needs, My Lord. Unfortunately, I cannot be sure how long he will remain like this. Of course, I will use all the resources at my disposal to find a way to help him."  
  
"Thank you, Irinwë. Be sure to inform me of any change to his condition."  
  
She nodded her acquiescence, and then he stood and left the room to take up a vigil by his son's bedside.**A/N: So, what do you think? Please review and let me know! Tori**


	4. Authors Apology

Hi guys!

I just wanted to say sorry for the delay in updates, and to let you know that it might be a while before I continue to write this story.

I've just decided to go back to college, and am doing AS English Literature course.

It's gong to take up a lot of my time, and with all the written work they give you, I probably won't find much time to write. But when I can, I will update!

Thank you to all who have reviewed my story, and a great thanks to my beta, Panneth, who helped me very much.

Love,

Torielle

xXx


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